


rooftop reverie.

by beeluvd



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally heavy, Female Friendship, Friendship, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Male-Female Friendship, Multi, Suicide Attempt, but content warning for suicide i guess, but if you wanna see those differently then go wild i cant stop you, its MY comfort character EYE get to project onto them, she's fine don't worry, someone give this girl a hug, these are all meant to be platonic except for the last one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:05:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27260152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beeluvd/pseuds/beeluvd
Summary: Peko sat cross legged on the green electrical box that hummed underneath her. It wasn’t that she was going to do anything, but she’d be lying if she said it had never crossed her mind. She didn’t have a personal desire to give in, but she could not deny that she had come to this very rooftop several times just to stare at the ledge. She tapped her knee with her right hand, pondering but never acting. For now, she just sat, feeling the breeze on the rooftop turn her cheeks and nose a light pink.Her shoes lay neatly on the floor next to her—4 times Peko goes to a rooftop to contemplate.4 times she meets familiar faces.—Inspired by the song "Yellow Cardigan"
Relationships: Komaeda Nagito & Pekoyama Peko, Kuzuryu Fuyuhiko/Pekoyama Peko, Mioda Ibuki & Pekoyama Peko, Pekoyama Peko & Tanaka Gundham
Comments: 32
Kudos: 56





	1. Ibuki.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [danielphobic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/danielphobic/gifts), [satanstrachea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/satanstrachea/gifts).



> I've been listening to "Yellow Cardigan" on repeat and desperately needed to get this emotional dump out, so here's this. I used my friends' fav characters for this too so <3 enjoy your Ibuki + Gundham + Nagito + Fuyupeko crumbs
> 
> Also again these are all supposed to be platonic (except for the last chapter) but again I'm not ur mother I can't tell u how to interpret this
> 
> *Suicide is heavily implied but not really acted upon until last chapter*

It wasn’t a particularly gloomy day that day. In fact, it was only partly cloudy, rather nice weather for the island. Unlike the simulation, the real island they resided on was not a sunny paradise, but rather often overcast with occasional sun. 

She wasn’t having a particularly bad day that day. It wasn’t a particularly spectacular day, either, though. It was just a day like any other. Breakfast, physical therapy, free time, talk therapy, the regular works for a newly traumatized patient who literally experienced death (or watched all their friends go through it).

A girl in simple clothes provided by the nurses was perched on an electrical box on the roof of the hospital, silver braids swaying lazily in the wind. A cane that she’d held in her grip to get up here leaned against the side of the buzzing box. Stray hairs floated around her face, dreamlike, as though she was underwater. She stared out on the horizon, her gaze not locked on anything in particular, a glassy sheen obvious in her once fiery red eyes that had burnt out a long time ago.

Peko sat cross legged on the green electrical box that hummed underneath her. It wasn’t that she was going to do anything, but she’d be lying if she said it had never crossed her mind. She didn’t have a personal desire to give in, but she could not deny that she had come to this very rooftop several times just to stare at the ledge. She tapped her knee with her right hand, pondering but never acting. For now, she just sat, feeling the breeze on the rooftop turn her cheeks and nose a light pink.

Her shoes lay neatly on the floor next to her.

The once agile swordswoman closed her eyes, feeling a new wave of wind brush her hair back. It wasn’t that she was doing particularly bad today, but she wasn’t doing particularly great either. Every day was the same for her. Eat, please the nurses, eat, lie in therapy, go to bed, repeat. She had expected to have gotten better by now; she’d thought she’d be less heavy, less full of the guilt and blame she was so accustomed to at this point. But lead still filled her bloodstreams and weighed her down, burdensome and tiring. The only time she felt light was on top of this building, feeling the breeze brush her hair, holding possibilities she didn’t act on in the palm of her hand.

Peko sighed. ‘ _I t_ _hought I’d feel better by now,_ ’ she thought bitterly, ‘ _E_ _veryone else seems to be getting better. Why not me? What am I doing wrong?_ ’ Sadness tugged at her heartstrings. All of the people around her that referred to her as their “friend” were getting stronger and stronger every day. Smiles returned to their faces, forgiveness and support abundant among the 15 of them. She could not help but feel like she was being left behind, reaching out a hand that nobody would grasp.

She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, inhaling the salty ocean breeze. To most it would have been a pleasant aroma, but to Peko, all she could smell was the sea that crashed around the rocks beneath her, an army of Monokuma’s samurai surrounding her in an impenetrable circle. She winced, remembering how she had no control of her body, a puppet controlled by Monokuma’s hands. She let out a cold laugh, thinking about the sick metaphor. ‘ _Peko, the tool with a heart!_ ’ The words rang through her ears, vile and ironic as he quite literally used her as a toy, controlling her every action, reminding her that she’d never truly been in control of anything in her life in the first place. Even in her death she fulfilled her role as the tool she was brought up to be.

“Peko-Pekooooooo!”

A chipper voice cut through her thoughts, snapping her eyes open. Peko turned her head, braids swinging. Another girl in hospital clothes bounced towards her. Her colorful bangs bobbed with every step she took, and many (but not all) of the piercings she once sported were now absent. Despite having long hair in the simulation, she’d cut it to just past her chin, her hair now short and blunt. Many of them had changed upon emerging out of their comatose state, and Ibuki Mioda was no exception.

Peko managed a small smile. “Hello Ibuki,” she said politely. “What brings you here?”

“Ibuki could ask you the same thing!” the overly enthusiastic musician countered, arriving at the green electrical box. “I didn’t see you at breakfast today and wondered, ‘Hey where’d Peko-Peko go?’” She hopped onto the box, forcing Peko to scoot over so she could take a seat next to the silver haired girl. 

“Oh, I apologize,” Peko said, bowing her head slightly. “Breakfast slipped my mind, I suppose.” She raised her head, trying to break the habit. It was still difficult to go against the things she’d been taught her whole life.

“Ibuki accepts your apology!” She giggled, swinging her legs that dangled off the edge of the electrical box.

Peko gave a small smile. Ibuki had always been a lively one, the complete opposite of her. She wondered how Ibuki had managed to get back to her usual animated self that she’d known in the simulation.

“Thank you,” Peko responded. That was also a phrase she’d known her whole life, though instead of meaning gratefulness it often held shame and regret for her. Another thing she was trying to break. She wanted it to mean so much more, she really did, but changing was so difficult.

So, so difficult.

“It’s very nice up here,” Ibuki started, now turning to face the horizon that was slowly beginning to cloud over. “Very peaceful, not like the hospital inside. I think that the nurses need to take a chill pill sometimes.” 

Peko watched the musicians face. It was filled with a sort of melancholy that she had never seen with the normally vivacious girl, something new. Her pink eyes glistened with a pensive wonder and Peko wondered what this bubbly girl could possibly be thinking about.

“Yes, I agree.” Peko turned back to the clouds.

“Does Peko like it here?”

Ibuki’s question settled in Peko’s mind, unsure how to answer. It wasn’t that this hospital was a particularly bad place, but it wasn’t particularly her favorite place either. But then again, it was where she was supposed to get back and recover, where she was supposed to return back to her “normal” self, whoever that may be.

“It’s fine,” she answered truthfully. “I don’t really know. I know that they’re supposed to helping us, but—”

“Ibuki hates it here.”

The statement startled Peko. She watched as Ibuki’s rosy eyes darkened, an expression she had never seen on her face beginning to take root. “I hate the nurses and the therapy and the food. Teruteru should be in charge of the food but he’s—” She let out a small sigh. “It is very tiring trying to be a person that Ibuki isn’t.”

Peko blinked in surprise. This was not the conversation she expected to be having. 

“So Ibuki wonders,” She looked up, locking eyes with Peko.

“How does Peko do it?”

Now _that_ was even more of a surprise.

“Wh-what do you mean?”

Ibuki let out a long sigh and fell back onto the electrical box, lying down with her legs still dangling off the side of it. “I mean, Peko-Peko always seems to have it all together. I want to be like that too.” Ibuki frowned. “I’m tired of feeling like,” She struggled a little bit. “Like Not-Ibuki. I want to feel regular like Peko.”

Ibuki’s arms were splayed out on both sides of her, essentially taking up the rest of the electrical box. Peko’s eyes scanned the parts where her hospital shirt hiked up, seeing the skin on Ibuki’s arm that it was hiding.

She saw that it was filled with burns and scars, and judging from the way they seemed old and not recent, they were presumably left over from their time as the Ultimate Despair. Even more, her fingertips were raw and red, a bandage covering her left index and middle finger. A faint memory of a black haired girl holding a guitar on a stage in front of a crowd of dead bodies, her eyes swirling with despair, flashed in the back of Peko’s mind. Not clear enough to understand the specifics, but long enough for her to understand what was happening.

“You seem to have it all together,” Ibuki admitted, her eyes still trained on the sky that hung above them. “You’re cool and calm and collected. I’m,” Her words trailed off as her eyes closed, a turbulent expression flashing across her usually happy features. “Ibuki wants to know how Peko got over everything so fast.”

Peko couldn’t help but frown. ‘ _Where on earth did she get that idea?_ ’ she thought to herself.

“Ibuki I’m…” Peko stopped. She sighed, then leaned back, placing her back on the surface of the electrical box so that she was now laying down next to the usually bright girl.

“I still don’t feel—” The swordswoman searched for words, finding that she still couldn’t explain exactly what she was feeling. “I don’t know. I just—I don’t feel like that. I do not know why you thought that,” she admitted out loud. She was surprised at her own honesty, shocked that the words even left her mouth.

Ibuki sighed. “I get it. Ibuki is having a hard time, I guess it makes sense that Peko-Peko would too.” She rolled her head to the side to look at the silver haired girl and gave a small, pained smile. “It’s hard when you just want to feel regular again.”

Peko stared at her, not entirely sure how to reply. “Yes...I agree. It is difficult to just go back to how we are supposed to be.” she said, attempting to convey her feelings into words. 

Ibuki turned up towards the sky again, puffing out her cheeks in annoyance and reaching both hands up to the sky. “The nurses always tell me, ‘Ibuki, finish your breakfast!’ ‘Ibuki, get out of bed and stop moping!’ ‘Ibuki tell us what’s wrong!’ Well Ibuki is tired of it!” She let her arms fall down onto her stomach. “I still don’t feel like how Ibuki should and I don’t know how to feel like her again.” Her eyes clouded over like the sky above them.

Peko’s eyes stayed fixated on the girl lying next to her. Perhaps she’d been wrong about Ibuki recovering quickly all along. Maybe she was wrong about the others, too.

“I don’t know who or what I am supposed to feel like again,” Peko admitted. “And I am not ‘over’ anything yet, I don’t think,” she confessed, still surprised that she was saying all of this.

Ibuki smiled. “I guess it's difficult for all of us, huh,” she said quietly, the clouds receding. “I guess none of us really know who we are anymore.” 

Peko turned back towards the sky. “I suppose not.”

“If none of us know who we’re supposed to be,” Ibuki said. “Then maybe we're supposed to create someone new. Someone that we can be proud of.”

Peko’s eyes widened, taking in the skylight that seeped through the clouds.

“Maybe we’re not meant to go back to who we’re supposed to be, but maybe we're supposed to become who we _want_ to be.”

Ibuki’s words came out uncharacteristically soft and delicate, her voice tender.

Silence enveloped the two girls staring at the sky for a little while, both of them contemplating their unknown futures and possibilities. The words chipped away at the lead in Peko’s bloodstream, and oddly, she felt a little bit lighter.

‘ _Who we_ want _to be_.’

Suddenly a spout of laughter spouted from Ibuki’s mouth. “Isn’t that silly? That’s totally something that Ibuki would never say, huh!” She sat up, her eyes sparkling once again. “If we’re gonna be someone that we want to be, I’m gonna be a traveling one woman band! I’m gonna have one of those giant drums with a bunch of other instruments attached to it, and I’m gonna learn the harmonica too! Ooh, and I’ll figure out how to play the guitar AND the drums at the same time! I’ll be the most dazzling one woman band you’ve ever seen!”

Peko snapped out of her trance, turning her eyes towards the girl looking down at her. Her eyes were a happy shade of fruit punch, sweet as strawberries. Slowly, Peko sat up, her braids slightly messy from laying down on the electrical box. A small grin erupted on her face.

“I think you’ll be the best one woman band the world will ever see.”

“Yaaaay, Peko-Peko liked Ibuki’s idea!” The musician clapped enthusiastically.

Peko smiled at the bubbly girl before her, not taking her presence for granted.

‘ _You really are a wise person, aren’t you Ibuki?_ ’

The colorful girl hopped off the box and promptly offered Peko her hand. “Now come on, I know Peko-Peko hasn’t eaten yet, so we’re gonna go get some noms!”

Slowly, carefully, Peko took Ibuki’s hand in hers.

She slipped her hospital shoes back onto her feet.

Hand in hand, they made their way back down into the hospital, a pair of silver braids bouncing alongside the colorful bangs next to them.


	2. Gundham.

It was actually a rather cold day on the island when Peko found herself leaning over the ledge of the building, a cane in her right hand.

‘ _That’s a long way down,_ ’ she thought to herself as she looked towards the ground. The floor of the rooftop was cold beneath her bare feet. It wasn’t that she wanted to do it, but it was the possibility that made her feel in control. Holding her own life in her hands, it was the one thing she had a say in.

She sighed, turning around to go back inside and admit defeat, and was rightfully surprised when she saw another person in hospital clothes had silently made their way to the rooftop.

“Oh. Hello Gundham. I didn’t hear you come up”

The Ultimate Breeder stared at her with an unreadable expression. “Hello Pekoyama,” he said rather formally. “What brings you here?”

“Oh, fresh air.”

Still he stared at her, then made his way over to the edge to peer over it.

“That’s a long way down,” he stated rather simply.

“Mm,” Peko responded, not sure how to carry on this conversation.

“Surely you would die.”

“Indeed.”

Gundham lifted his head, looking up from the ground below to look at the girl in front of him. Her braids were slightly messy and uneven today, as though she had braided them with unsteady hands. She had on the uniform clothing of a hospital patient just as he did: a thin grey shirt and pants that almost blended into her pale complexion and light grey hair.

“Are you not cold in these frigid elements?” he asked.

“I could say the same to you.”

Gundham reached towards his neck to pull up a scarf that was not there.

“I suppose so,” he muttered.

The two stared at each other, both of them unsure what to say. She silently wondered why he was here on the rooftop in the first place.

“You were not present during lunch today,” he finally said.

“Ah,” she said. “It slipped my mind. I was rather tired after therapy. I apologize.” She dipped her head and quickly brought it back up, remembering.

“No need to apologize. What you decide to do on your own time is not within my realm of interest. Many souls just missed your spirit, I believe.”

Peko tightened her grip on her cane, trying to maintain balance. Physical therapy had been going well; she could now move around relatively alright with a cane, but many others, such as the boy standing before her, regained the ability to walk on two feet with no assistance far faster than her. She looked at Gundham, feeling slightly envious of his ability to stand up straight and stable.

“I see. I will try to be there for dinner then.” She omitted an apology, remembering.

Gundham tilted his head to the side slightly, crossing his arms. “Are you doing alright Pekoyama? Though it may not be appropriate to express my personal concern to you, you seem to have difficulty standing right now.”

Peko cursed at herself internally for her shaky legs and clutched her cane handle tightly.

“Um…”

“Do you...require stable ground?”

Truthfully, Peko felt like her limbs were dangerously close to giving out beneath her.

“Would you like to rest your human form?” Gundham asked, eyes flickering to the electrical box, hinting at something. Peko noticed this and understood the message; though she did not want to show weakness, she also didn’t want her body to collapse underneath her on this cold rooftop.

“Oh, well. I suppose that wouldn’t hurt.” She was secretly grateful that Gundham did not offer to help her walk down the stairs or even towards the box, which was only a couple feet away from them.

Slowly, she made her way towards the buzzing electrical box. However, instead of propping herself up onto it, she leaned against it, sliding down the side and onto the floor. She rested her back on the side of the box, feeling the cold metal against her skin through her thin hospital clothes. She pulled her knees close to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Her cane lay disposed of next to her. 

Gundham walked over to her, looking down at her curiously. “Your aura seems troubled, Pekoyama,” he said, towering over the sitting girl. She tried to give a small laugh. Despite spending some time with Gundham during their time in the hospital, she still couldn’t entirely grasp what he was saying half the time. “I do not understand what that means, but alright,” she admitted, shivering slightly as a cold gust of wind overtook them. After a short pause, Gundham slid down the box to sit down next to her, the both of them now gazing out at the gloomy sky in front of them.

“You seem as chilly as the depths of hell from whence I come from,” Gundham said, eyes still fixed on the clouds that were beginning to gather in thick clumps. “Well yes, it is quite cold up here,” she responded.

“That is not what I mean.”

Peko stayed silent.

“Your eyes lack the fire that once burned like the souls of the River Styx.”

Once again, these words flew over Peko’s head, but she more or less grasped the meaning.

“I am just very tired, that is all.”

“Mm,” he responded in a low hum, saying nothing more.

Peko glanced over to the boy that now sat next to her. His hair was slightly shaggy now, falling on either side of his head as opposed to sticking up like in the simulation. It still had its thin grey streaks in it, though, giving the appearance of highlights that framed his face. A scar still slashed across his left eye, grey and faded. The bags under his eyes were dark and obvious, and his eyes were heavily lidded. Though she had spent occasional time with him in the hospital, she hadn’t realized until now just how exhausted he looked. Additionally, despite seeing Gundham in the hospital now and again, she only just noticed the absence of something in particular.

“Gundham where is your scarf?”

He kept his eyes fixed on the darkening clouds.

“The nurses did not deem me fit to keep such a thing.”

“Oh.”

The boy next to her lacked the intensity that she had known in the simulation. Normally he was dramatic and exaggerated; the Gundham next to her looked empty and defeated, eyes blank and glassy. He had his feet flat on the floor, his knees slightly raised above the ground. His hands were rested on his knees, one still wrapped in bandages just as she had remembered, fingers tapping mindlessly.

“It is quite disrespectful to the Supreme Overlord of Ice to strip him of his shield.”

His words, though attempting to sound big and melodramatic, sounded empty and hollow, just like the boy they came out of.

Peko turned her head back towards the storm that was beginning to brew before them. 

“They won’t give me my sword either. I don’t even know where it is anymore,” she admitted. Every part of her ached to grasp the handle of her shinai, but she wasn’t even sure if the staff even had it in their possession. Even if they did, she knew they’d never give it to her. 

Gundham gave a small smile, one that was not hollow or fictitious. 

“I suppose we are both missing vital parts of us.”

Peko hugged her knees closer. He was right; without her role as a swordswoman (or as a tool) she felt useless, empty, as though she was here for no real reason. If she couldn’t even do what she was built to do in life, what was she here for?

“I feel naked without it,” she confessed, surprised at her own honesty.

“I understand. It is as though I am missing a limb,” Gundham responded, giving a small nod.

Peko reached up behind her to feel for a sword that was never there. “That is a good way to put it,” she said.

Gundham gave a long sigh. “Pekoyama, do you believe in reincarnation?”

The question caught her off guard. “I’m not sure. Why?”

A look of sadness washed over Gundham’s different colored eyes. “The Four Dark Devas’ physical forms are long gone. They moved on to another life while we were trapped in that digital hellscape,” he said wistfully.

_‘Oh_.’

Peko had not taken notice that Gundham never had his hamsters with him in the hospital. It made sense; they had no idea what happened to the world around them while they were in the simulation, or even how long they’d been in there, so it made sense that Gundham’s hamsters had passed.

A distant memory of a male form flickered in the back of her mind, his scarf trailing around him in the smoke that submerged the landscape. An army of hundreds of animals paraded behind him, eyes hypnotized and obedient. Bodies surrounded them, trampled and mangled. Four small forms rested on his shoulders.

Gundham stretched out his hand that still sported bandages, reaching towards nothing in particular. “The Four Dark Devas’ previous forms were but a vessel for their true selves,” he explained as though Peko would understand. He paused, a tiny smile making its way onto his hollow features.

“But no matter what, they will always find their way back.”

As if on cue, four birds flew to perch on Gundham’s outstretched arm. A large raven, a tiny brown sparrow, a pigeon, and a mourning dove all took their place on his makeshift perch. He moved his free hand to ruffle the feathers of the raven that clearly leaned into his touch, as though they had known each other forever. The pigeon and small sparrow faced each other, chirping excitedly. The mourning dove cooed, singing into the wind.

Peko looked on in shock and awe as Gundham moved his hand again, this time to gently pet the dove, which was immediately soothed beneath his touch. 

“You know, Pekoyama,” he started quietly. “You will find your way back to a new form, too.”

Once again, Gundham reached up to adjust a scarf that was not there. He gave another sigh. “Carrying on in this mortal plane without a limb is difficult, but not impossible.” He rubbed the top of the sparrow’s head with his index finger as it tweeted happily.

Peko watched the pigeon shake its round body, feathers fluttering.

‘ _So this is why he was on the roof._ ’

“Yes,” she murmured quietly. “I suppose you're right.”

They sat in silence for a while, Peko even getting the opportunity to stroke the raven’s glossy feathers.

Eventually, the grey clouds threatened to storm above them, and Gundham looked up from the four birds that were perched on his arm. “Ah, it seems as though the heavens are beginning to open,” he said, observing the dark clouds above them. “Yes, I suppose we ought to go inside,” Peko responded, feeling a sprinkle of rain on her nose. She was beginning to shiver anyway.

Gundham gave one last pet to all of the birds. “You will all be okay, my Devas. Cham-P, take care of the flock,” he said softly to the raven. Peko swore she saw the raven nod its tiny head before spreading its wings and flying off, the other three trailing behind them in an odd, mismatched quartet.

She watched as they disappeared into the clouds, not sure if what just happened was a dream or real life.

Gundham pushed himself up, and then offered his hand out to Peko to help her up.

“I understand that you do not desire assistance, but allow me to aid you just this once.”

Peko smiled at his sincerity.

“As you wish, Supreme Overlord of Ice.”

His face burst out into a smile so big she swore she felt sunshine in the rain.

Peko slipped her hand into his and put her hospital shoes back on. Her cane lay forgotten on the floor. The nurses could come up here and get it later, anyway.

Arms linked closely, they walked back into the hospital downstairs, determined to not let the other fall.


	3. Nagito.

It was a cloudless, sunny day when Peko found her legs dangling off the edge of the building.

It wasn’t that she was particularly eager to fall, she just felt a deep desire to gaze down at the asphalt below. 

Now, she watched her bare feet hang off the ledge, staring at the long fall that was looking her in the face.

The sun was setting now, washing the island in a soft orange glow. Peko felt the warmth from the sunshine seep into her skin, bathing her in gold. Her hands were flat on the surface of the ledge, propping her body up on either side of her. Despite the rays of sun that kissed her face, her hands still felt cold against the stone.

Peko sighed, closing her eyes, relishing the warmth. It had been a while since she’d been up here, but even she had her weak moments. Today hadn’t been particularly horrible, she’d had worse days, but it wasn’t particularly great either. Her elbow still sported a bruise from when she fell in physical therapy, her palm bearing four crescent moon shaped indents from where she’d dug her fingernails into it during talk therapy. 

“Where do you want to go from here?” the Ultimate Therapist, Miaya Gekkogahara had asked her. Still, Peko did not know the answer. She had racked her brain with possibilities, searching for an attainable goal, but came up with nothing. All she could think of was a one woman band and four different birds, and that wasn’t exactly something a person could bring up in therapy without sounding insane. “I don’t know,” she’d answered honestly. “I don’t know.”

So now here she sat, legs hanging off the stony edge of the building, drinking in sunlight.

There was only a small breeze today, so small that Peko would not have noticed it had she not had her hair down. She could not find it in her to braid it this morning, her hands feeling weak and fragile, as though they did not belong to her. So instead, she had opted to let her silver hair flow freely; it was shorter now, reaching just past her shoulders. Now, she reached up to twirl a piece of it around her finger mindlessly as she gazed into the setting sun. She did not hear the rooftop door open and close behind her. She did not hear someone quietly walk towards the edge where the girl was sitting to join her.

A boy with white hair and a pallid complexion took his place next to Peko, legs hanging off the side of the building.

“Pretty sunset, huh?”

Had Peko not seen him sit down out of the corner of her eyes, she may have been startled and might have even fallen off the roof into the depths below.

“Indeed.”

Nagito had grown far more tolerable outside of the simulation. She remembered growing wary of the boy after the first trial, concerned about what he was possibly capable of. Ironic, considering she committed murder far before he was even dead. Apparently he had committed a rather gruesome suicide some time after. Peko had not asked for the details, as she had felt it was not her place to ask.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

His voice was slightly hoarse and he did not make eye contact with her, still watching the sun turn a brighter shade of orange as it made its way to dip into the sea that stretched out before them.

“Watching the sunset,” she answered automatically. It was a relatively harmless answer, and one that wasn’t entirely untrue. She knew that the sky had been clear all day and wanted to watch the ocean turn a shimmery shade of honey (‘ _One last time,_ ’ she’d thought as she opened the door to the rooftop).

“Mmm,” Nagito responded, eyes still fixed on the ocean that now looked like a field of marigolds. “Yeah, me too,” he hummed as he swung his legs slightly.

She noticed out of the corner of her eyes that his feet were bare.

Nagito was much thinner than he’d been in the simulation. His hospital clothes hung off of his skinny frame, baggy and oversized. She was sure that had she seen his chest, his ribcage would be prominent against his skin. (The only person who rivaled his thin frame was Akane, who was still recovering from her time starving herself as a Despair.) He looked like a skeleton, a dead man walking among the rest of them. A smile was painted on face, pained and fraudulent.

“I’m sure you did,” she said, trying to play along. The irony of the situation almost made her laugh.

“I’m sure you did too,” Nagito said through a painful smile.

A beat of silence.

“Not that it’s any of my business, I didn’t see you at dinner today.”

Peko paused. “I apologize. I must have been up here and forgot about it.”

Nagito shrugged. “Eh, no need to apologize to someone like me.”

She kept her eyes fixed on the horizon.

The two of them sat there in silence for a long while, watching the sun sink lower and lower, until the sea was awash with a deep bronze glow, waves dancing so that they almost gave the illusion of flames.

“Peko, how did it feel to die?”

The words struck her like the swords in her back. “Wh-what, why would you—”

Nagito gave a small, awkward laugh. “You don’t have to answer, I’m sorry I asked. It’s not my place for trash like me to ask such personal questions.”

Peko sat there, her mouth still slightly hung open from shock. Not even the therapist had asked her that question before and here was this boy, asking it so bluntly.

But she began to think. ‘ _How_ did _it feel to die_?’

“It hurt.”

The words left her words without giving her a chance to think.

“Hmm?” Nagito turned towards her, breaking his stare with the sun.

“It hurt. A lot. Sometimes I still feel it.”

“Were you scared?”

She felt a stab through her stomach.

“I—”

“Oh geez, sorry. I don’t really have a right to be asking these questions to an Ultimate like yourself, huh.” He gave another awkward laugh. “You don’t—”

“Yes.”

The word fell out of her mouth without any warning. Nagito’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“It happened so fast, I don’t...I didn’t…” 

Her eyes stayed locked on the glittering ocean of gold.

Nagito hummed. “I see. So even the Ultimate Swordswoman feels fear sometimes.”

She couldn’t tell if this was supposed to be comforting or condescending. It was always difficult to tell with this one.

“I was scared too.”

The white haired boy admitted without elaborating, turning back to the sea. 

“Does it hurt for you too?” She found herself asking quietly.

“An Ultimate such as yourself being concerned for me. I’m honored.” Peko rolled her eyes internally. He paused for a moment.

“All the time.”

Peko recalled the feeling of swords digging into her back, emerging out of the other side of her body, lodging themselves inbetween her bones and cracking her skeleton apart. She remembered how just last night she had shot up in bed rubbing the back of her neck, the feeling of the final blow still stinging fresh on her skin.

Another silence washed over them as the sun painted the ocean a rich ruby red, reminiscent of the girl’s once vibrant eyes.

“Nagito, how did you die?” She heard herself ask.

The pale boy gave a cold laugh. “Technically, poison.” Peko couldn’t help but wonder what kind of pain he experienced with a death by poison. “Although the giant spear through my stomach and all those stab wounds helped too.”

“Oh.”

‘ _I_ _suppose that’s something we have in common._ ’ she thought dolefully. She watched as his hand moved to the middle of his stomach, as though to pull out something that was not there.

The silence returned as the waves danced like firelight.

“I can’t say I didn’t deserve it,” she heard him say bitterly. “I tried to do it to rid everyone else, and I couldn’t even do that right.”

She frowned. “Why would you do that?” she asked.

The boy sighed. “As Ultimate Despair, we’ve caused so much destruction. Do we really deserve to live?”

The question resonated in Peko’s mind. She did not know the specifics of her crimes, just that they were greater and more brutal than she could ever imagine. Fuyuhiko refused to tell her the details, telling her that she needed to focus on her recovery rather than dwell on her past. But still, her past begged the question:

Did she?

The image of a silver haired woman swirled around in the back of her mind, long hair fanning out behind her, eyes redder than the fire around her. She stood in front of an army of Monokumas, in front of a man with an eyepatch, wielding a katana and facing a small group of other people with weapons. She watched as the woman surged forward with a crazed look in her eyes, sword drawn, effortlessly slicing bodies in half.

“I…”

“Ah! Forgive me! I shouldn’t be asking such serious questions to someone such as yourself who I am not close to.” Nagito gave another awkward laugh and smoothed out his baggy hospital shirt.

Still, his question rang through her mind. Did she? She thought of the bat in her hands, the look of fear that flashed across Mahiru’s face before she brought it down onto her, the crack of her skull echoing throughout the beach house. She recalled Fuyuhiko bleeding out underneath her, the exact look on his face when she sliced open his eye still fresh in her mind. The silver haired woman in her memories let out a twisted laugh as she plowed through those trying to fight back, katana glistening with blood. The bruise on her elbow from this morning throbbed.

“I don’t know.”

Peko stared at the ground below.

“Huh?” Nagito asked, confused.

“I don’t know. _Do_ we deserve to live?” She took a deep breath, inhaling the sunlight that bounced off the waves. “I am sure Mahiru hates me and that Hiyoko hates me.” She stopped. ‘ _I hate me,_ ’ she realized, but kept it to herself.

Nagito gave a small laugh, not a hollow one, but a good natured one. “Everyone hates me. But that’s normal for me.”

Peko blinked, lifting her head up to face the white haired boy.

“I do not hate you.”

A look of genuine shock crossed over his face, as though he’d never heard such words before.

“I think that you are very odd. And you are strange and sometimes...difficult. But I do not hate you.”

An odd memory flickered in the back of her mind, faint and cloudy; she stood with these 15 other people in a classroom, wearing a school uniform. A tall, adult woman stood at the front of the room in a housekeeper’s uniform. Peko’s shinai was strapped to her back and she stood in a small group consisting of Kazuichi, Akane, and the very boy sitting next to her. Their eyes were bright with life, despair nowhere to be found. They were smiling. Laughing. Existing.

An indiscernible look still lingered over Nagito’s features, but she was sure it was a good one. “Thank you, Peko. That means a lot coming from an Ultimate like you. I don’t hate you either.” He let another small laugh. “How could I hate an Ultimate such as yourself?” 

Peko cocked her head. “You are an Ultimate too, you know.”

Nagito sighed. “I suppose so, but my talent is often difficult to work with, unlike yours. I’m essentially useless most of the time.”

Peko stared down at her hands. She felt the heavy absence of a sword on her back.

“Nagito, you should stop calling yourself useless. You are not useless.”

Another indecipherable expression settled on his face. “I could say the same for yourself.” He paused, almost hesitant to bring this up. “I was there at your trial, you know.”

She closed her mouth. She hated this. She hated being forced to face all of these things, and hated that Nagito was bringing all of this and making her look all of these pains in the face.

“Do you ever get tired?” she found herself asking.

“Of what?”

“Of hating yourself.”

“Oh. I’ve never thought of that.”

Nagito stared thoughtfully at the sun that was almost completely obscured by the sea by now. He laughed again.

“I suppose with someone as purposeless as me, it comes naturally.”

Peko stayed silent, clenching her hands into fists. Purposeless was her worst fear. If she didn’t have a purpose to fulfill, then why was she here?

“Ah, I apologize again. Feelings from someone as lowly as myself are meaningless, you don’t have to respond to that.” The boy laughed it off yet again, tilting his head back to look at the slowly darkening sky.

‘ _Feelings from someone as lowly as myself are meaningless._ ’ This sentence was unfortunately familiar to her. It was what helped her nullify everything she felt; tools didn’t need emotions. She didn’t need to feel, not as long as she had purpose. She was perfectly content feeling nothing; it was something she’d carried with herself her whole life. In fact, Peko was sure she hadn’t even felt real emotions until the moment she was dragged to her death.

She wanted to agree with this. She wanted to give in to the natural instinct to push everything down, to wipe away all semblance of humanity, because that was so, _so_ easy.

So why did a buried part of her want to reach out and say that wasn’t true?

“Nagito,” she started. She found that words kept pouring out of her mouth today without her control. The boy turned his head to her. “Huh?”

“I do not think that your feelings are meaningless.” She unclenched her hands, laying them flat on her thighs. Her legs still dangled from the building. She stared at the ground that lay stories below.

“I think that...that I am still trying to understand this too,” her voice managed to get out.

Nagito’s face lit up with surprise, then into a small smile, still looking towards the sky. “I suppose you’re right,” he laughed. “You’ve been listening to Gekkogahara lately, huh. I could only expect that an Ultimate like you would find the hope in the darkness of our situation.”

Once again, Peko rolled her eyes internally, but to her own surprise, kept speaking.

“I suppose you should just...let yourself feel. And go from there.” 

Nagito closed his eyes, smiling. “I hope you take your own advice, Peko,” he hummed.

Peko lifted her eyes from the ground towards the sun that was almost completely engulfed by the waves that had been darkened by the night sky, the silver moon beginning to take her place in the heavens.

“I think...that I am going to try.”

Nagito opened his eyes, taking in the stars that were beginning to appear above them.

“I’m glad. Someone as fantastic as you doesn’t deserve to feel like garbage.”

“Neither do you.”

Nagito smiled. “I guess I can only believe that that’s true, coming from an Ultimate like you.”

Peko tilted her head back to match Nagito’s position, looking at the navy blue blanket that was beginning to cloak the sky. Stars twinkled in the fabric of night, winking down at the two bodies that stared up at them with their legs hanging off the edge of the rooftop.

“I suppose that it'll stop hurting one day.”

Nagito did not specify what “it” was, but Peko understood.

“We can only hope that it does.”

Though she was wary of using the “H” word around this boy, she felt it appropriate for the situation. And she was glad she did, because the smile that spread over Nagito’s face was unmistakably, truly happy.

The sun waved its last few rays goodbye, leaving the two under the cover of night. They sat there for a while, bare feet still dangling off the side of the building, counting the stars.

“Shall we head inside?” Peko asked after a while, unsure how long they’d been sitting out here, but sure that the boy sitting next to her was getting chilly underneath the thin hospital clothes.

Nagito nodded. “Sure, why not?”

Peko swung her legs over the side of the building, planting her feet onto the floor of the rooftop and standing up. The swordswoman turned around to face the shivering boy, her hair the color of the moonlight that now washed the rooftop in a pearly glow.

She reached out to him, offering her hand.

Tentatively, he accepted.

Hands interlocked, they slipped on their shoes and headed back down into the hospital together, holding each other from coming undone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *this is supposed to be a platonic hand holding <3
> 
> Also, a fun little tidbit: Nagito says that his luck is useless, but really it's by his own luck that he finds her up there, where she stops him from...u know. Just a fun little fact that went through my thought process :p


	4. Fuyuhiko.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Hi! Essentially Suicide attempt warning! Not to spoil anything, but she turns out okay :)

It was on a particular starry night that Peko found herself standing barefoot on the ledge of the hospital building, teetering dangerously close to the edge.

It wasn’t that she was actively going to jump, she just wanted to see if her legs would collapse underneath her.

‘ _An experiment of sorts_ ,’ she rationalized to herself as she pushed open the door to the rooftop, making a beeline to the edge of the roof. The sky was relatively clear with just a couple clouds obscuring the moon, and she could count the brightest stars that Nagito had pointed out a few weeks ago. 

But Peko’s gaze was not fixed on the stars glimmering above her head, nor were they staring at the ocean that was eerily calm on this certain night. No, her eyes were locked onto the asphalt below. It was nighttime, so nobody was walking there. The only thing to disturb her now was the rustling of the palm trees.

  
  


Her cane lay on the floor behind her, tossed to the side in a rare fit of anger. Today had actually been a particularly bad day. She had fallen again during physical therapy, rolling her ankle, which was now wrapped up. Her therapist had told her that “they needed to make better progress” and assigned Peko to more of those stupid, stupid breathing exercises. She figured she’d pay Ibuki a visit to cheer herself up, but apparently Ibuki had had a bad case of food poisoning and was now in a different part of the hospital, and when Peko had asked where, the nurses refused to tell her. “Confidentiality,” they’d said, when in reality it was a lack of trust between them and the previous Despairs. 

She thought she’d go to see Gundham, but he was absent from his room (presumably in therapy), so she retired to the beach where she saw Mahiru and Hiyoko sitting peacefully, and her stomach had immediately curdled with an all too familiar guilt, so she returned to her room with nothing to do. After laying in bed staring at the ceiling for a while, she thought she’d go see how Nagito was doing, but when she cracked the door to his room open, she saw that Hajime was already in his room and decided that she didn’t want to disturb them. She supposed that this was the universe telling her that nobody wanted her around.

Peko had skipped dinner after that, deciding that she had had enough of the world for the day, and as soon as she had wrapped herself up in her blankets and was preparing to go back to sleep, she heard a knock at her door.

Not in the mood for human interaction, she quickly closed her eyes and feigned being asleep. Hopefully whoever this was would leave her alone.

“Peko?”

Her eyes almost shot open at the sound of a familiar voice, but against her instincts, stayed shut.

“Oh she’s asleep,” he said. A muffled voice from slightly further away said something she couldn’t quite decipher in response. “No, no, let her. She’s probably really tired anyway.”

Oh, so he had company. Suddenly Peko was glad that she’d kept her eyes shut.

“Yeah, I know. I can bring her food later, don’t worry about it. I got it.”

Though her eyes were closed, she could feel Fuyuhiko’s eyes burn into her.

She heard the door close and cracked an eye open, just a bit, until she was sure that nobody was in her room.

After that, she had lain in bed while silently watching night fall across the island outside of her window, unable to go back to sleep.

  
  


So now here she was, dangerously close to tipping over the edge of the building, eyes focused on the fall she could quite possibly be taking if she lost her footing.

He had braided her hair this morning as she sat in silence, staring at her nail beds. He claimed that it was relaxing to him. She thought it was out of pity.

A strong breeze now blew through them, swaying idly with the wind. A few stray strands brushed the back of her neck. The waves crashed onto the shore. The moon illuminated the pavement below, beams of moonlight lighting the asphalt in an almost magical glow.

The world held its breath.

Slowly, Peko reached up to her right braid and ran her fingers over the three intertwined strands, feeling where they crossed and where they ran across each other, admiring his handiwork. The pieces were even and tight enough to hold their shape, but still loose enough to not be uncomfortable. He had truly taken his time with them.

‘ _What a shame,_ ’ she thought. ‘ _They really are quite well done._ ’

Her hand trailed down to the bottom of the braid and pulled out the hair tie that held it together.

The three strands fell, blowing freely in the wind like ribbons. She did the same to her left braid, first relishing how delicate and particular he had made it, just like the other one. It was impressive, really, how good he’d gotten at braiding hair. She paused before pulling the hair tie out of it’s spot, wanting to savor the last moments of this braid in this world.

‘ _You did a fantastic job on these_ ,’ she thought sadly as she pulled the hair tie out.

Peko’s hair now flowed freely behind her in the wind that was getting stronger by the minute. She ran her hands through it, reveling in the freeness that the gust provided. When she closed her eyes, it almost felt as though she was flying.

Her legs began to feel weak under her own weight.

It wasn’t that she was going to push herself forward, but she wasn’t going to deny herself from falling.

She opened her eyes, taking in the beauty of the night sky, trying to hold the image of the moonlight bleeding through the clouds close to her heart.

‘ _One last time._ _One la—_ ’

“Peko?”

Her blood turned to ice.

‘ _Don’t look._ ’

“Wh—what are you—”

Her heart dropped to her stomach.

‘ _Don’t look._ ’

“Peko what are you—oh my god get down from there!”

‘ _Don’t look._ ’

Her eyes stared lifelessly at the stars winking down at her.

Her legs began to shake.

It wasn’t that she particularly wanted to fall, but she wasn’t going to stop herself from crumbling. If it was meant to be, then so be it.

Her eyes locked onto the moon, hung beautifully in the sky like a pearly lantern.

‘ _It does look rather pretty tonight,_ ’ she thought wistfully as her legs gave out beneath her.

Suddenly she felt a pair of arms wrap around her midsection and pull her backwards, yanking her down from the ledge and tumbling into the body of the person who had grabbed her.

They both plunged backwards and she fell on top of him, a mess of silver hair and weakened limbs hitting parts of the pavement that he didn’t cushion. It was a rather awkward position to be in, essentially lying on top of the front of him with his arms wrapped tightly around her stomach, but he refused to let go.

“What...were you thinking?”

He buried his face into her hair—rather, he didn’t have a choice, as his face was lost among her freely flowing locks.

“What the _fuck_ were you thinking?”

“I…” The rest of her sentence was lost to the nighttime wind.

“Peko what the _fuck_ were you thinking?”

The oncoming tears were evident in his voice. 

Great. Now she felt guilty for making him cry.

“Honestly what—”

“I’m sorry.”

The words left her mouth without thinking, sad and familiar. It was a phrase she felt like she was constantly offering him. She was sure he was sick of it by now, sick of her apologies, sick of taking care of her. 

“Wh—what—?”

“I have to—” She struggled out of his grasp, ripping his arms off of her and rolling off of him onto a more upwards position so that she was sitting up with her calves folded underneath her.

Had it not been for the teary eyed boy lying flat on the pavement, she could have almost been meditating.

Now that she wasn’t being hugged deliriously from behind, the reality of the situation weighed on her. She hung her head low, not caring that she was giving in to the habit she was trying to break. Her silver hair hung on all sides of her face, forming a curtain separating her from the world.

“I apologize for causing you distress.”

She heard him push himself up from the floor.

“...What?”

‘ _Did he not hear me the first time?_ ’ 

“I said, I ap—”

Suddenly she felt him grab her by the shoulders.

“Hey.”

She kept her eyes trained towards the ground.

“Hey.”

She said nothing.

“Look at me.”

A command. She looked up.

Fuyuhiko’s face was filled with a pain that she had not seen since the simulation, one that he had not shown since she was dragged off to her death. His one eye was clearly crying, tears leaving a trail down his cheek. His whole expression was riddled with an anguish that made her heart ache.

“Don’t you _ever_ do that again.”

He pulled her into another hug, an even tighter one this time. His arms wrapped so tightly around her she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to breathe. 

Her body was still tense, hesitant to accept the hug. But after he sobbed into her shoulder, she let herself give in, snaking her arms around his neck.

“ _What_ the _fuck_ were you thinking, Peko?” he cried into her hospital shirt, not caring about leaving tear tracks on the thin fabric. “What the _fuck_ were you thinking?” he repeated, not really asking her, but just wondering to himself out loud. 

“I…” 

Still, she wasn’t entirely sure how to answer the boy crying into her shoulder.

“I guess I just had a bad day.”

“Huh?”

She rested her chin on his shoulder. “I suppose I just had a bad day. I apologize for causing you distress,” she repeated, guilt stabbing at her chest.

Fuyuhiko pulled away from their hug, Peko’s body growing cold from the lack of heat.

“So you decided to jump off the fucking roof?”

“I wasn’t going to jump…” she began to explain.

He looked at her, bewildered. “Are you sure? Cause it sure looked like you were about to jump off the fucking roof!” Another wave of tears leaked out of his one good eye. 

“I wasn’t—it’s not like that,” she said, attempting to defend herself.

“So what? You were just gonna wait until you just fell off or something?”

Peko stayed silent, not meeting his eye.

“God, you…” Fuyuhiko wiped the tears from his face, wrought with emotion. “You can’t just—you can’t just do that, Peko. Jesus, what if I hadn’t gone to your room to bring you dinner? I wouldn’t have noticed you were gone, and then you’d have—” He choked back a small sob. Peko kept her eyes focused on the ground.

“I didn’t want to cause you trouble.” She didn’t look up.

“T-trouble?” The confusion was evident in his voice. He scooted forwards, closer to her. “Trouble?”

“You are always going out of your way to take care of me. I didn’t want you to have to do that.”

Fuyuhiko wiped at his face with his sleeve again. “For fucks sake Peko, I don’t spend time with you out of obligation, I do it because I—” He paused. “I care about you,” he said, much softer. “And I want you to feel okay.”

He reached forward and tilted her chin upwards to meet his watery eyes.

“Listen, the next time you have a bad day, you come find me okay? We can do something, anything, or hell we can just do nothing. Doesn’t matter, just come find me.” He brushed his thumb across her cheek, wiping away a singular tear she hadn’t even realized was there.

He took her face in both of his hands. “Just whatever you do, don’t _ever_ pull that shit again. I mean it. I don’t wanna, like, command you around anymore, but if you have to take that as an order to not do it, then hell, do that. Just don’t ever, _ever_ , do that again.”

She realized her field of vision was slightly distorted, and soon became aware that she too was crying. 

Without thinking, Peko lunged forward and pulled him into a hug that instead she initiated, a few tears falling freely down her face as she finally allowed herself to feel all the grief and guilt and sadness that had been weighing on her.

Fuyuhiko returned the hug as soon as she wrapped her arms around him, burying his face into her shoulder once again. “And no more apologies, okay?” he said softly into her shoulder. “You don’t need to apologize for anything anymore. If anything I should be sorry for not being there for you. I’m sorry you had to feel like that alone.”

She felt more tears sink into her shoulder. “You do not have to—”

“Please.”

“What?”

“Please just...let me apologize to you for once.”

She paused.

“Okay,” she said hesitantly. 

  
  


A memory, one that was too recent for her taste, one that she re-lived all too often in her dreams, flickered to the front of her mind.

_‘Peko, don’t go! I need you! Don’t leave me!_ ’

How could she have been so blind?

She pulled him closer, almost wishing she could completely absorb the comfort he was providing. “I need you, okay?” he murmured into her shoulder. She nodded wordlessly, feeling a tear fall down her cheek just like it had back then. “Please don’t leave me.” His voice was lower than a whisper at this point. “I don’t care if it’s selfish, just _please_.” He buried his face deeper into her shoulder, the wet spot on her shoulder growing darker. “I can’t lose you all over again.”

“You won’t,” she whispered, so quiet it was almost lost in the midnight breeze.

“Promise?”

Peko hesitated. ‘ _Don’t make promises you can’t keep_.’

“Yes,” she finally decided, resting her chin on his shoulder.

They stayed there for a while, finding comfort in one another’s tears, until Fuyuhiko pulled away, only to rest his forehead against hers. Their faces were inches apart, and Peko was not entirely sure why she felt like she was about to have a heart attack on the spot.

“Listen, I have bad days too, okay? But I know that—” He looked down and, hesitantly, rested his hand on top of hers. She realized just how warm they were. “I know that you’re always going to be there for me, so I hope you know that I’m also going to be there for you too. I really need you to remember that. Okay?”

Peko blinked another tear out of her eyes. “Okay,” she whispered. Fuyuhiko smiled, his face still wet with emotion. He let go of her hand, exposing it to the cold once more.

“Okay. Good,” he murmured as he took the sides of her face in his hands again, and planted a small kiss on her forehead. Peko immediately began blushing profusely, hoping that her loose hair would hide the pink glow that was beginning to spread across her cheeks. Likewise, he hoped that the nighttime darkness concealed the way his face was flushing rose.

“Um, I don’t know why I did that,” He blurted out. “I’m sorry, I should’ve asked,” he said, taking hands away from the sides of her face as though he had just been burned.

“No it’s...it’s fine. Thank you. I do feel...better now.” Peko felt a small smile break through the expired tear tracks on her face. The sides of Fuyuhiko’s mouth curved upwards, returning her smile.

“Alright...okay, good. Good. I’m still gonna ask next time though.” 

‘ _Next time?_ ’

“Okay,” Peko responded with a small laugh, deciding not to ask about that right now.

“Now let's go inside, it’s getting fuckin’ cold out here.” He pushed himself up from the ground and held out his hand to her.

Without hesitation, she locked her hand with his, and he pulled her onto feet.

Forgetting about her cane once again (the nurses were probably sick of having to go up to the roof all the time), she allowed him to support her as she slipped her shoes back on, and together they walked towards the door that led back down to the hospital.

She allowed him to support her down the staircase, and down the hall to her room, and onto her bed, deciding that perhaps allowing herself to be helped was the first step to change.

“You gonna be okay?” he asked as she allowed him to tuck her into bed, pulling the covers over her.

“Mhm,” she responded, her eyes already fluttering close, her body and mind exhausted from the events of the day.

“Okay,” he said, smoothing her hair, brushing the tangles that had accumulated during the ordeal. “Sleep well,” Fuyuhiko said softly as he turned towards the door.

“Wait."  
  


He stopped, turning back to the already half-asleep girl.

“Fuyuhiko...thank you.” A peaceful smile floated across her face before she drifted off to sleep for good.

He found himself smiling contentedly.

“Anytime, Peko.”

He opened the door to exit the room, being careful to close it slowly and quietly as though not to wake the sleeping girl that wore a tranquil expression on her face for the first time in months.

—

  
  


The next day, she laughed with Ibuki at breakfast. 

She pet birds with Gundham. 

She spotted constellations with Nagito. 

She sat on the beach in comfortable silence with Fuyuhiko.

  
  


"I don't know what to do," she told Gekkogahara, the Ultimate Therapist, who sat in front of her with a clipboard. "But I know that I don't want to feel like...this anymore."

"This is a great start, Peko. Let's begin by discussing your....."

—

For the first time in months, maybe even years, she allowed herself to feel, her own advice not lost to her. Slowly, she allowed herself to visualize a person that she wanted to be in the future, trying not to focus on the person she was in the past. She allowed herself to want more for herself, discovering motivation to find her way to a version of herself she'd be happy with. Slowly, laboriously, she allowed herself to grieve the years she'd lost hating and belittling herself, allowing tears to fall. She allowed herself to want to be wanted and to crave the love she never received, finding that human contact was one of the most fulfilling things she could find.

She thought of one woman bands and four different birds and sunsets dipping below the horizon and free falling tears and, for the first time in her life, envisioned a future where she would be okay with her hurt in the end.

Maybe it was not today, or tomorrow, or next week, or even next year, but it was there. Peko was sure of it.

  
  


The ledge of the rooftop lay lonely and forgotten, her shoes planted firmly on her feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> had to get my faves in at the end there <3 this was very emotionally heavy but I wanted her to end on a happy note bc comfort character deserves the world methinks.
> 
> Also each chapter had like a "lesson" that I wanted to point out at the end there; I hope that all made sense lol


End file.
